


Hero of the Story: One-Shots

by kimmy_writes (WickedlyAwesomeMe)



Series: Hero of the Story [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Everybody is Freaking Happy, F/M, Harry is Finally Happy, Hermione is Finally Happy, One-Shots, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rare Pairings, Rating May Change, Sporadic Updates, Time Travel Fix-It, but mainly fluff, so many feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:48:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26617714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WickedlyAwesomeMe/pseuds/kimmy_writes
Summary: Hermione tries her very hardest to live a happy life.One-shots of bonus scenes and several outtakes from "Hero of the Story".[Sporadic Updates]
Relationships: Hermione Granger/James Potter, Lily Evans/Severus Snape, Mary Macdonald/Peter Pettigrew
Series: Hero of the Story [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1936327
Comments: 53
Kudos: 279





	1. chapter one

**Author's Note:**

> So, hi, surprise! 
> 
> I know I said HotS stressed me out so much but, to be honest with all of you, I haven't gotten over the story yet. I legit have so many ideas – post-HotS, missing scenes, several 'what ifs', etc. So I started typing down some of my ideas and lo and behold, the first one-shot is born hahaha. The one-shots won't only revolve around Hermione, though. I have ideas for the Marauders, the next-gen, Regulus, Moody and Anya… hahahah
> 
> I'm not sure if this is a good idea hahaha but medicine is legit stressing me out so I turned to writing again. Updates will be very sporadic, so no daily updates this time 😅.

**Summary:** She was the brightest star in his eyes.  
**Rating:** G  
**Warnings:** None  
**Characters:** Hermione Granger (Pettigrew/Potter), James Potter, Harry Potter, Pokey, Mary McDonald

* * *

_**1.** _

_**this brilliant light is brighter than we've known** _

(You Are Enough by Sleeping at Last)

* * *

**February 10, 1983**

James frowned when he walked out of their bathroom. Hermione was still lying on their bed. The comforter was drawn up to her chin, effectively burying almost all of herself underneath it. The only thing James could see was her riotous curls.

"Hermione?" he called, already walking towards their dresser to pull out his office clothes for the day. "Why aren't you up yet? I thought you said Professor Hypatiaasked you to go to Hogwarts to sit in with her Arithmancy class today?"

Hermione slowly peeked her head out from under their comforter and grimaced. "I'm not feeling well," she simply said. "I already owled her to say I'll do it some other time."

James's frown deepened. "What?" he worriedly asked, hastily throwing a plain shirt and a clean pair of trousers on before sauntering towards their bed. Up close, he saw how her cheeks were flushed red and there were already beads of sweat clinging onto the strands of hair stuck to her forehead.

He reached forward and touched her forehead. His eyes grew wide at noting that she was too warm to touch. He quickly grabbed onto his wand and made a series of simple wand movements. A small number projected upwards on the tip of his wand, stating that Hermione was running a fever.

"Bollocks," Hermione groaned as she tried to haul herself up. She propped herself against their headboard and grimaced. "Molly warned me I shouldn't drop by the Burrow yesterday because the twins were running a fever, but I still went anyway."

James looked down at Hermione disapprovingly. "You should have listened to Molly," he admonished, reaching forward once more to rest a hand on her swollen belly.

Hermione weakly smiled. "I told her in passing this second pregnancy was a bit more difficult than when I was carrying Harry," she explained. "Molly offered to give some potions to help."

She laughed and held his hand, noting the worry in his eyes. "I'm fine, love," she reassured. "It's nothing intolerable. I just need a few help to make me feel a bit better." Her eyes glinted as her hand rested on top of her belly. "I can already predict this little one will be a bigger handful than our Harry."

"Still," he insisted, "I think having a fever while you're six months pregnant isn't normal." He waved his wand and muttered a soft _'Accio parchment and quill'_.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going to owl Moody and tell him I can't go into work today," he explained.

"You don't have to do that," Hermione protested. "I can just owl Mum and—"

James cut her off with a sigh. "Let me take care of you today, Hermione," he said. "Besides, I think this is a perfect opportunity to ditch work." He gave her a wide grin when Hermione rolled her eyes. "I'm sure Moody wouldn't like it if Anya got mad at him for refusing to give me a day off to take care of you."

"Moody wouldn't care what my mother thinks," she grumbled.

"Please, Hermione, that man's _besotted_ ," he snorted whilst he scribbled his letter on the parchment.

"It's _so_ weird Mum's dating Moody," she pointed out, shifting back onto the bed to bury herself underneath their comforter.

James laughed and pulled the comforter up to her chin. "If it's weird for you, imagine how Wormtail feels," he said.

"You're still invited to our first-ever dinner with Moody next week, you know."

"Pass," he said with a grimace. "Although it would be mighty fun to watch Peter squirm, I'd rather not casually have dinner with my boss outside of work."

"I'm sure he isn't all bad," she said. "I mean, Mum likes him. As in really, _really_ likes him. I've never seen her happy like that before. Even when she was with Dad or when she dated her boring ex."

James made another face. "It still beats me what she sees in him," he said, summoning another spare piece of parchment. "I'm going to write to Mary too so that she can drop by and check up on you." James placed a kiss on her burning forehead and said, "Rest for now, love. I'll bring you some soup later."

Hermione hummed her thanks, her eyes already fluttering closed.

**-ooo-**

When James came back to their bedroom after sending out the letters, three-year-old Harry was in tow.

"Listen, mate, your Mum is not feeling well," he seriously told the tiny tot, who was adorably hugging his stag stuffed toy to his chest. Snowball was playfully darting around Harry's legs as she tried to grab onto the stag's tail, but Harry kept on incessantly pulling it away. "Both of us must stay very, _very_ quiet so as not to disturb your mother, okay?"

"Okay," Harry said, his bottom lip protruding in worry.

James grinned and mussed up his messy hair. "Good lad," he complimented. "Now, come on."

Harry's small hand then clutched James's as his father led him into their bedroom.

Hermione was still buried under their comforter, her curls a messy halo around her head. Her blue eyes blinked open when their door creaked open, a small, sleepy smile stretching on her face upon seeing her family. "Hello," she said as she slowly sat up and leaned against their headboard.

"You okay, Mama?" Harry worriedly asked. The little boy tried to wriggle away from James's grasp, but his father's hold on him tightened to keep him in place.

"I'm okay, love," she reassured just to appease their worried son. Up close, however, James noted she looked worse than this morning. "I'm just not feeling well today." Her gaze shifted towards James, her smile now turning into a small frown. "I don't think Harry should be here. He might get sick too."

"I've owled the Snapes," James assured. "Lily's going to look after Harry today, anyway. I asked if she could take in Harry for the night."

Harry tugged his hand, prompting James to look down at him. "I don't want to go," he softly said.

James and Hermione exchanged an amused glance. "Well, too bad but you have to go, mate," his father said with a sigh, bending down to pick Harry up into his arms. "I have to take care of your mother for today and we don't want you to get sick too."

"But I want to take care of Mama too," Harry protested, tears now welling up in his eyes as he tried to reach for Hermione.

"Oh sweetheart," Hermione said with a fond smile, "I'd rather you don't get sick because of me. Your Aunt Lily will take care of you today. Besides, I thought you said you wanted to see Iris again and play with her?"

"But Uncle Sev is always grumpy," he grumbled.

James boisterously laughed and shifted Harry in his arms. "That's just the way he is, Harry," he explained. "I'm going to give you permission to stomp on his feet if he's being annoying."

"James!"

"Right, of course, that was a joke, love," James told Hermione while he threw a secret wink at his son. "Don't listen to me, Harry. That is a bad thing to do."

By that time, the door had creaked open once more and in came a primly dressed Pokey, who was currently balancing a tray of soup and a warm cup of water. "Is Mistress Hermione all right?" the small house-elf asked, pushing James out of the way so she could reach Hermione. "Pokey heard from Master James that Mistress Hermione isn't feeling well."

"I'm fine," she reassured, smiling in amusement as Pokey fussed over their bed by trying to make her pillows fluffier and smoothing out the creases in the comforter. "You didn't have to come over."

"I asked her to take Harry to the Snapes," James said, bending down once more to place Harry back onto his feet. "Thank you, Pokey. You've been a great help."

To their utmost surprise, Pokey turned to James and swatted his arm. "Why isn't Master James taking proper care of the Mistress of the House?" she shrilly cried.

"Merlin and Morgana, Pokey, calm down!" James sputtered, too dumbfounded that _his_ house-elf had hit him. "She's just running a fever."

"While carrying another Potter!" Pokey bemoaned. Big, fat tears welled up in her tennis-ball eyes as she started to sob loudly with her face hidden behind her hands. "Oh, Mistress, forgive Pokey. It is Pokey's fault Master James isn't taking proper care of Mistress Hermione!"

"I am taking care of Hermione," James whined amidst Hermione's soft chuckles. "Why do I feel like you love Hermione more than me now?"

Pokey harrumphed and stomped towards Harry. "Come, Master Harry," she said, grasping onto Harry's hand. "Pokey must teach you how to take care of the future Mistress of the House."

"Merlin, Pokey, Harry's three!" James cried.

"Better to start them early, Master James," she sternly said. She then paused and craned her neck to look at Hermione again. "Pokey wishes Mistress Hermione to get better soon."

"Thank you, Pokey," she kindly said, eyes twinkling in amusement when James lightly scowled.

Before Pokey could pull him out of the bedroom, Harry dug his heels into the carpeted floor. He broke free from Pokey's grasp and toddled closer to his mother. Harry placed a kiss on top of his stag's head and extended it to Hermione. "He'll take care of you while I'm gone, Mama," Harry seriously said.

Hermione's smile turned warm. "Thank you, love," she said, grasping his toy and hugging it close to her chest. "Do have fun with the Snapes today. If Uncle Sev's being a sourpuss again, tell him I will send him a Bat-Bogey Hex when we see each other."

"Hermione!" James mockingly gasped, although his lips were stretched far and wide in amusement. At the same time, Harry mouthed the hex under his breath, as if really trying to burn the spell into his memory.

"Come, Master Harry," Pokey said, reaching for Harry again. They both bid their goodbyes and left the two adults alone.

As soon as Harry was gone, Hermione grimaced and slumped back onto the bed. James was instantly by her side and touching her forehead. "You're warmer than this morning," he pointed out with a frown.

"I feel worse," she grumbled, burying herself deeper under the comforter. "And very cold."

James waved his wand to give her a Warming Charm. Hermione smiled in gratitude.

"Sip some soup first, love," James urged, but Hermione's eyes were already fluttering closed.

"Just a few more minutes," she sighed. Her hand shot out from the blanket and held onto James's hand. She then placed his hand against her cheek and expelled another sigh. "Please stay. You're warm."

His eyes turned fond as he fixed the blanket up to her chin. "All right," he said.

**-ooo-**

Mary came over that night after her shift and proceeded to kick James out of their bedroom.

"I don't want any hovering over my shoulder while I do my series of check-ups," she explained when James protested. She gave him a reassuring smile and patted his arm. "Don't worry. I'll be quick."

"Fine," he sighed in defeat.

"Be a dear James and prepare me some tea instead," she said. "It's been a really long day for me."

"I'm sorry for bothering you, Mary."

The Healer waved her hand dismissively. "Oh, bollocks," she said with a grin. "I'm glad you called me immediately. It's a bit worrisome when pregnant women get sick so I'd rather Hermione gets checked up immediately."

"Will she be all right?" he worriedly asked.

"We'll know soon," she reassured. "Go on. Prepare some tea."

By the time James returned, balancing a tray with a teapot and some teacups, their bedroom door was ajar. "May I come in now?" he asked.

Mary yanked the door wider and came into view, a small smile on her face. "Yes, come in," she said.

James sauntered inside, his eyes instantly latching onto his wife who was once again propped against their headboard. Hermione was sipping a potion when her eyes connected with his.

"So?" the bespectacled wizard asked, watching as Mary proceeded to help herself to some tea.

"Oh, Hermione will be fine," the Healer reassured. "It's nothing serious. Just simple flu. We just have to keep her temperature down and she'll be back to normal."

"And our baby?"

"She's going to be fine," Mary continued, unable to see the panicked glance Hermione had shot at her back. Her back was also turned from James, and thus, she was unable to see how he stiffened at her claim. "Your little girl will be out and about in no time."

The Healer flinched in surprise and swivelled around to look at James, when said wizard's grip slackened and his wand clattered to the floor. Mary's eyebrows knitted in confusion, before realisation dawned, her eyes now growing wide. "Oh!" she cried, shifting her gaze towards an amused Hermione. " _Oh_ , he doesn't know yet?"

The brunette shook her head. "It was supposed to be a surprise," she said with a laugh. Her eyes then landed on her frozen husband, her lips stretching into a huge grin. "Err… surprise."

James was instantly beside her, pulling her into a tight hug. "A girl!" he exclaimed, his eyes turning starry as he glanced at her swollen belly.

"I knew you'd be over the moon," she chuckled, placing a kiss on his cheek.

* * *

**May 7, 1983**

"Mary—"

"No, James."

"Why can't I be inside?" he cried. "Is it because I'm a man? And I can't tolerate watching childbirth? Mary, listen—"

But the Healer cut him off with a loud snort. "James, please, don't be ridiculous," she said, already pushing James aside so she could enter their bedroom. "I know you and Hermione have reasons why you want her labour to happen in your home. Many Wizarding families actually opt to do that instead of venturing to St. Mungo's. Did you know the maternity ward is the most recently established section in the hospital? I mean _really_ recent. Ancient, wrinkly wizards thought they shouldn't bother building one because, as I said, witches opted to do their childbirth at home. Loads of codswallop, if you ask me. Terribly sexist too because they thought childbirth shouldn't be done in the hospital. _Merlin_ , you should have been there when they were lecturing us about assisting the births of witches. I was about to explode from the ridiculousness of it all."

"Mary," James exclaimed in exasperation.

Mary's cheeks bloomed red as a sheepish smile grew on her face. " _Right_ ," she continued, "the point is, I want to make the room as sterile as possible. Meaning, no unnecessary people hovering around, undoubtedly bringing in horrible contamination that may put the mother and child at risk. Besides, you'll just get in the way and I don't need a panicky husband demanding me to do my job properly, which _mind you_ , I've trained in for _years_ , especially if an emergency arises." When James visibly paled, she hastily added, "Which won't happen at all if I don't get distracted from my job."

The Healer made a series of complicated spells towards herself while motioning with her other hand for James to back a few steps away from her. She then crossed the threshold of their bedroom, where Hermione was already waiting for Mary's assistance and held up a hand when James tried to follow.

"I've already made myself sterile enough and _you_ are not," she said. "You're not allowed beyond this point until I've safely delivered your daughter."

"Mary," he pleaded, " _please_. Let me stay beside Hermione. I promise I'll be a good man and not get in your way It's just that—" James worriedly darted a glance over Mary's shoulder and caught a glimpse of Hermione's curly hair. "This pregnancy is more difficult than her first. Hermione's _often_ gotten sick. You said this pregnancy is riskier too. If something happens I just want…" James puffed out a breath, his hazel eyes colouring with worry. "I just want to be beside my wife."

The Healer looked contemplative for a moment before she finally expelled a humongous sigh. "Merlin Almighty, I can't believe I'm breaching protocol," she said, rubbing the bridge of her nose.

Despite his worry, James gave her a weak, lopsided smile. "I'm a Marauder, Mary," he said. "You know I like breaking protocols."

" _Fine_ , Godric," she exclaimed, now pointing her wand at James.

"What are you—"

"Just stay put, Potter, and let me do my job."

James's eyes widened, surprised that the normally sweet Mary really turned terrifying when she was wearing her lime green robes. He stiffened when Mary made a series of complicated wand movements directed at James, and by the time she was finished, the bespectacled wizard actually felt clean.

Mary then summoned spare lime green robes and offered them to James. "Wear this," she ordered.

He glanced at his own Auror robes and blinked. "I'm good," he haltingly said.

She rolled her eyes and pressed the robes into his hands. "Healer robes are designed with the most advanced magic to be impenetrable to contamination. I've already made a series of spells to make you sterile, but I don't trust you enough that you won't touch any filthy things lying around."

"Well, thanks for the vote of confidence," he sarcastically quipped.

"Just wear it, James," she insisted. James was about to quip another snarky remark but was reduced to silence when Hermione released a pained cry from inside. "Come on. Wear this now. Hermione's about to go into labour."

The wizard hastily shrugged his Auror robes off and wore Mary's spare Healer robes. It instantly lengthened to fit his height and build, and James briefly wondered what other secret spells Healer robes had. He was soon distracted when Hermione made another soft cry, propelling him forward until he was standing beside his wife.

"James?" she asked, eyes squinting a bit because of pain. "What are you doing here?"

"He begged to stay," Mary sighed, her eyes melting in understanding as she gazed at the worried wizard. " _No_ , wait!"

James flinched, his fingers a few inches away from Hermione's hand, and paused. "What?"

Mary summoned a small vial from her bag and gave it to James. "Pour some of this onto your hands first," she said.

" _Mary_ , I'm already bloody sterile enough," he cried in exasperation.

"Not enough," Mary insisted. "Did you know the hands are one of the dirtiest parts of the body?"

"Frankly, Mary, I don't really care."

"James," Hermione admonished through gritted teeth.

"Just slather some on your hands and you can touch Hermione wherever for all I care," Mary shrieked.

If it were more possible, James's eyes had grown so wide they had almost popped out of their sockets. Judging from Hermione's bewildered face, he knew that she too was surprised by Mary's surprising attitude. The Healer seemed oblivious of their surprised faces as she was now busy preparing a basin and some dry towels.

"Is it just me or is Mary terrifying today?" James softly asked under his breath as he poured the potion onto his hands. He hissed a bit when it stung, but the pain was brief as the liquid coated every inch of his hand up to his fingertips. James looked at his hand in amazement. There was a thin sheen of glove-shaped liquid enveloping his whole hand.

"Peter once told me in passing Mary could be terrifying when she's in her lime green robes," Hermione whispered with a soft chuckle. A pained groan then dragged out of her lips as she placed a hand on her contracting belly. "Merlin, our girl's really ready to come out."

"Are the contractions now regularly constant, Hermione?" Mary asked, her tone of voice softer as she rounded back towards Hermione.

The brunette slightly nodded her head and grimaced again. James instantly held onto her hand.

"Hold onto my hand very, _very_ tightly if the pain is unbearable," he seriously said. "In fact, I think I can transfer your pain to me, can I? Maybe I should—"

He was cut off when both witches simultaneously snorted. "What?" James asked, confused.

"Childbirth is bloody painful, which is why we've developed ways to numb the pain," Mary explained. "Don't worry. Her contractions are getting regular. I'll give her the Numbing Spell soon."

It didn't take too long as Hermione's pained cries became frequent. Mary made another series of complicated wand work and instantly, Hermione's face cleared.

"I can already see the crown of her head," Mary declared. James gazed at the Healer with wide, disbelieving eyes, before dumbly shifting his gaze back towards Hermione. "I'm going to need your help now, Hermione, all right?"

"All right," his wife faintly whispered.

Mary gave her a reassuring smile. "Very good," the Healer said. "I want you to take a deep breath, Hermione. That's it. Take a deep breath and push."

The brunette did as she was told and James held onto her hand tighter. He brought her knuckles to his lips and pressed a comforting kiss there. "That's it, love. Come on. You can do it."

Their mingled words of encouragement increased Hermione's vigour. James kept his eyes reverently glued on Hermione's face, trying to see if there was any hint of pain that could mean something worse. As he was too busy looking at Hermione, he wasn't able to see when their baby finally came out. His eyes only snapped towards their daughter when her loud cries filled their room.

James felt marvellously flummoxed, watching as Mary gently wiped the blood away from their baby's body and swaddled her in one of the dry blankets. Her eyes met James's and a bright smile appeared on her face. "Congratulations," she said. "It's a girl."

She then passed their baby into James's arms and the wizard dumbly stared down at his newborn. Beside him, Hermione started to cry happy tears, reaching forward to gently stroke the baby's head.

James knew he should pass the baby to Hermione. But for some strange reason, he felt frozen, his eyes unable to gaze away from their new baby.

She was so tiny and wrinkly, pink from crying. Her hair was the same shade as Hermione's and he could already see the curls on top of her small head. Her eyes were blue but James could already notice flecks of brown near her irises. Perhaps, he thought, she would grow up to have his eyes too.

When Harry was born, James instantly thought he was beautiful.

But this baby… this baby was so bright.

 _So, so bright_.

"Stella," he breathed out, his eyes clouding with tears as he met Hermione's eyes. A silly grin stretched wide on his face, prompting Hermione to softly chuckle at the ridiculous look on his face.

"Stella," Hermione echoed back.


	2. chapter two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This whole one-shot will be purely in Harry's POV about his Hogwarts years. Enjoy!

**Summary:** Harry Potter lived a very ordinary life  
 **Rating:** T  
 **Warnings:** Some mild cussing  
 **Characters:** Harry Potter, Neville Longbottom, Ron Weasley, Iris Snape, Stella Potter, Leon Potter, Draco Malfoy, Hermione Pettigrew-Potter, James Potter, Ginny Weasley, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew, Severus Snape

* * *

**2.**

_the universe was made just to be seen by my eyes – part i_

(Saturn by Sleeping at Last)

* * *

_**1991** _

This was it.

He was finally a first year.

Harry knew he looked stupid, gawking widely at the large, maroon train whilst billows of smoke spiralled out of the chimney and blanketed Platform 9 ¾ in a hazy veil. Numerous stories from his parents about their adventures in Hogwarts resurfaced in his mind. There was a part of him—a huge one, in fact—that felt excitement upon starting his first year in the said school. The sadness he felt upon leaving home was momentarily forgotten as he beheld the Hogwarts train.

"Come on, Harry. The train's about to leave!" his best friend, Ron Weasley, whined from behind. Harry shook his awe away and sheepishly glanced at the lanky redhead, before hastily clambering onto the train.

Ron was already excitedly reciting everything he wanted to do once he stepped foot in Hogwarts. Harry only leant him half an ear, too busy searching for an empty carriage they could occupy.

"Hey," the bespectacled eleven-year-old suddenly said, skidding into a halt. "Where's Nev?"

Ron's jaw snapped shut, his eyes growing wide in a slight panic. "Bloody hell, did he lose Trevor again?" he groaned.

"Language," Harry tutted, prompting Ron to roll his eyes and completely push Harry inside a blessedly unoccupied carriage. "Do you reckon we should look for him?"

"He'll be fine," his best friend dismissed, plopping onto one of the couches and stretching his legs comfortably. Ron wasn't able to see Harry's frown, as he was now busy pilfering through a small bag holding his snacks. He made a face and set it aside. "Err…"

"I'll treat you to some snacks once the Trolley Lady comes," Harry promised with a smile. "Dad sneaked a few galleons inside my robe pockets before saying goodbye." The redhead's cheeks reddened in sheepish embarrassment, but there was genuine gratitude in his blue eyes.

The train ride was uneventful. Ron and Harry alternated from playing various board games, predicting the outcome of this year's Professional Quidditch Finals, and guessing what would happen in their first year at Hogwarts.

Ron still firmly believed they would be swept away in various adventures, battling three-headed dogs ("That's ridiculous," Harry pointed out) or duelling with secret evil wizards to save the Wizarding World (" _Ronald_ ").

"Why not?" Ron snapped with a small pout. "The Marauders had loads of adventures during their stay at Hogwarts. Uncle James even gave _you_ the Marauder's Map. I don't know about you, mate, but armed with your Dad's Cloak and the Map, we can explore Hogwarts to our heart's content."

" _And_ face Mum's wrath," Harry pointedly replied. "Aunt Molly's too."

"We won't be facing anyone's wrath if we don't get caught," he simply said.

Harry snorted, already rolling his eyes as he imagined his Dad's, and even Uncle Sirius's, proud faces at how eager Ron was in following in their footsteps. Admittedly, Harry was fascinated with his Dad's and best friends' adventures in Hogwarts, and he couldn't wait to have his own. But with the Wizarding World at peace and no lurking evil Dark Lords in the shadows, Harry doubted his adventures would be as ridiculously wild as the Marauders.

Their necks then instantly snapped towards the compartment door when it was slid open. Outside their carriage stood a smirking, blond boy, his pointy nose haughtily lifted in the air.

"Look what I bloody found," Draco Malfoy said, grasping something from behind. He then pulled a teary-eyed Neville Longbottom inside their carriage with Trevor lovingly pressed against his chest. "Longbottom lost his bloody pet again."

"Language," Harry hissed with a frown, while Ron snickered at the expense of the frustrated, plump boy.

"You're not my mother, _Potter_ ," the young Malfoy said as he plopped down on the seat beside the bespectacled wizard. His silver eyes then snapped towards the scowling Neville, who was already hastily wiping his tears away. "Where the hell did you place your Remembrall, Nev? Aunt Alice specifically told you to keep it at all times to stop yourself from forgetting things."

Neville's cheeks turned red. "I don't know where I placed it," he murmured under his breath.

" _Of course_ , you don't know where you placed it," Ron sighed.

Neville's scowl darkened, shoving Ron away whilst the Weasley unabashedly roared in laughter.

"Sorry for missing your birthday, Potter," Draco then said, rolling his eyes at his other rowdy best friends. "Mother also sends her apology."

"You made it up with that wicked gift of yours," Ron then pointed out, managing to wrestle his way away from Neville's arms. "You should have seen Aunt Hermione's eyes when she saw the collection of expensive robes."

Draco dismissively waved his hand as if it wasn't a big deal.

"Aunt Cissa's well, though?" Harry asked.

The Malfoy heir's face softened as a small smile appeared on his face. "Very well," he said. "Our vacation in France was what she'd needed after years and years of slaving over the Malfoy estate. If only I was of age already, then I could unburden my mother from such a huge responsibility."

"The Malfoy household will surely crash and burn once you're the Head, I'm sure," Ron cajoled. Draco lightly scowled and smacked him on the underside of his side, prompting the redhead to release a sheepish snort.

The boys had soon settled into amicable conversation, exchanging various anecdotes about their summer vacation. Ron had already challenged Neville to Wizard's Chess. He had been winning consecutively already, which wasn't much of a surprise.

"Where do you reckon you will be Sorted?" Harry softly quipped as soon as they donned their black robes.

"Gryffindor," Neville and Ron echoed without hesitation at the same time Draco confidently replied, "Slytherin, of course."

Harry threw Draco a withering glance. "Won't you be sad we'll be separated?" he asked. He jutted a thumb towards his other two friends and said, "I'm sure these blokes won't be well-suited in Slytherin and _you_ , well, Merlin, I can't even imagine you prancing around with a bunch of Gryffindors."

"Well, if you must know, I've pranced around with Gryffindors since I was a babe because your families are mostly composed of Gryffindors," the blond-haired boy pointed out. "And, it doesn't matter. I've always known we'd be Sorted separately."

Draco then awkwardly scratched his chin and looked away from his best friends. "You'll allow me to still spend some time with you even though I'm a Slytherin, right?" His normally snooty voice was uncharacteristically soft as if he was genuinely scared his best friends would abandon him just because they were Sorted into different houses.

"Of course!" Neville vehemently replied.

Ron reached forwards and smacked him on the underside of his head again. "Weasley, honestly," Draco growled.

"We've long accepted you'll be a Slytherin through and through," Ron sighed whilst shaking his head. "You're getting worried over nothing, Draco."

Harry grinned and tossed a few Chocolate Frogs towards the pale boy. "Dad and the others made a bet where you'll get Sorted, you know," Harry revealed. "Uncle Sirius was the only one adamant you'd be Sorted into Gryffindor. _Everybody_ else begged to differ."

"Well, which House do you think you'll be Sorted into, then?" Draco asked, quirking a blond eyebrow at the bespectacled boy.

Harry was then reduced to silence, a contemplative look on his face. He'd always believed he would be Sorted into Gryffindor; _Merlin_ , he grew up surrounded with the loudest, most reckless Gryffindors he'd ever met and thus, he grew up wanting to be just like them. Now, however, hours away from the Sorting, Harry wasn't too sure.

"I don't know," he deliberately said.

"Well," Neville said as he jumped onto his feet and grasped the handle of his trunk, "we'll know soon."

**-ooo-**

"Potter, Harry."

It was ridiculous how he grew nervous once his name was called by Professor McGonagall. Nonetheless, Harry paled and stiffly walked towards the stool where the Sorting Hat was resting.

He caught his mother's eyes, an encouraging smile on her freckled face. Professor Potter was sandwiched between his Uncle Sev and Uncle Remus, who both tilted their heads to urge him to continue walking towards the stool.

Harry finally sat on the stool and nervously gazed at the Great Hall. He spied Neville, now Sorted in Gryffindor, giving him a two-thumbs up. Draco was seated at the Slytherin table, his annoying smirk spread wide on his pale face. Ron was the only one who wasn't Sorted yet, still standing with the remaining students bearing no colour on their robes.

His vision was then obscured when Professor McGonagall placed the Hat over his head. It was enormous, its wide brim managing to rest on the bridge of his nose.

" _Hmm, difficult,"_ the Hat started. _"Very difficult."_

" _Difficult?_ " Harry echoed, growing worried. _"Why do you say that?"_

" _Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind, either. Perhaps Ravenclaw?"_ it mused aloud. Harry grew uncomfortable when he felt the Hat twisting wildly on top of his head. _"There's talent, oh yes. And a thirst to prove yourself. Difficult indeed! But where to put you?"_

Harry nervously tilted his head. _"Anywhere will be fine_ ," he decided. _"It will be really wonderful if I'm placed in Gryffindor, though."_

" _Gryffindor?"_ the Hat asked, aghast. _"Maybe Slytherin. I see proud ambition in your mind, too."_

" _Well, if it's not too much to ask, I think I'll be better off suited in Gryffindor,"_ Harry insisted. _"You've Sorted one of my best friends into Slytherin just a while ago, so I won't be lonely in Slytherin. But also, I really think Gryffindor suits me more."_

" _Well, if you're sure, better be…_ GRYFFINDOR!"

Professor McGonagall removed the Hat from his head. It took Harry some time to adjust to the sudden onslaught of blinding lights, but the Transfiguration Professor was already urging him to walk towards his new House. The Gryffindor table had burst into a huge round of applause, prompting his lips to stretch into a wide smile.

Harry craned his neck to look at the teacher's table once more. His mother was clapping the loudest too, but her happy applause was overpowered by the jeers of Professor Lupin, the current Head of Gryffindor. His Uncle Sev looked disappointed, though, but he was most definitely not surprised by the turn of events.

He then continued his trek towards the Gryffindor table, his grin stretching wider at Neville's excited greetings. Harry briefly threw an apologetic smile at Draco, but the blond merely rolled his eyes, also obviously unsurprised with Harry's Sorting.

"We're going to have so much fun," Neville gushed, his plump cheeks reddening with unadulterated excitement.

Harry beamed wide as his blue eyes swept around the grandiose Great Hall.

"I can't wait."

* * *

_**1992** _

"I don't think this is a good idea," Neville whimpered as they scuttled from one dark alcove to another, evading any possible authority who'd undoubtedly give them detention for being out of bed.

"Shhh," Ron and Draco whispered at the same time.

"Nobody can see us," Harry reassured, tugging the Invisibility Cloak lower to hide his legs. "Just stay quiet and trust me."

Poor Neville had no choice but to sigh and press himself closer to his best mates, lest he slipped out from under the Invisibility Cloak and got himself caught.

"This is the most idiotic plan you've ever concocted, Potter," Draco murmured as they finally stood in front of the abandoned girl's loo on the second floor. "I've always thought you were barmy, but _Sweet Salazar_ , this is a whole different level."

Harry snorted and led them inside, immediately closing the door behind him. "If it's idiotic, then what the hell are you doing here?" he asked, a challenge in his eyes. The only Slytherin in the group gave him a stink eye, his high cheekbones now dusted with pink. "Admit it, you gits; you're curious about it too."

"What if it's still alive?" Neville nervously asked, his brown eyes wide as his gaze swept around the loo.

"Uncle Sirius has retold the tale countless times - every time he's given the chance," Ron pointed out. "I'm sure half of them aren't even true, but I do believe him when he says the basilisk is dead."

Harry rounded on his mates, a bright gleam in his blue eyes. "We'll be hasty," he promised. He cheekily grinned, reminiscent of the smile they'd always seen Uncle James wearing, and raised his hand. "Marauder's honour."

Draco snorted this time while Ron matched his grin and Neville sighed for the umpteenth time. "Don't be stupid," Draco said, "We can't be Marauders. _No one_ can match them."

Harry laughed and waved the Marauder's Map in the air. "Dad secretly gave this to me as his blessing," he reminded them. "I don't know about you, mates, but I think Dad and his friends want us to continue their work in this school."

"And torment Filch until his dying breath, I'm sure," the redhead said with a broad grin.

"Can we just get this over and done with?" Neville whined, waving his hand over where the entrance of the Chamber of Secrets was. "If it doesn't open for us, I won't hesitate in saying 'I told you so'."

"Don't be such a sourpuss," Ron sighed, pushing Neville forwards while Harry and Draco clambered behind.

The four boys stood in front of the sink where a snake with glinting eyes sat. "We'll take turns trying, yeah?" Harry suggested.

Draco strode forwards. "Let me do it first," he said. "Maybe as a Slytherin, I'll be more successful," he said.

"Good luck with that," Ron sniped, grinning widely when the blond shot him a dark glare.

The blond then took a deep breath and hissed a bunch of incoherent sounds at the snake. After trying for a few minutes, Draco started to pout and glanced at his best mates in exasperation. "This is stupid," he grumbled, cheeks reddening once more at failing.

"Let me do it instead," Ron confidently offered, pushing Draco away and bending over the sink. The redhead hissed various words, but also to no avail. Neville also took his turn, but the snake stayed stubborn, refusing to slither away and reveal the entrance to the infamous Chamber of Secrets.

"I guess it's up to me, then," Harry said as he determinedly started forwards and stared at the snake. Harry narrowed his eyes and started to hiss. _'Open up, come on!'_ he beseeched amidst his furious hissing. The snake continued to mock him with its glinting eyes, immobile.

Such was their concentration they were unprepared when the door suddenly burst open. The students yelped in surprise and whirled around, only to be greeted by their thunderous Potions Professor.

"Uncle Sev, hi," Harry casually said.

"That is Professor Snape to you, Potter," the older wizard said with a scowl on his face. He deliberately strode forward, his piercing black eyes intent on the terrified boys. "And what, pray tell, are you doing out of your beds?"

Neville squeaked and pushed Harry forward. Ron and Draco scuttled further back, eyes trained intently on their shoes. Harry craned his neck to glare at his best friends in betrayal.

"I'm waiting," Professor Snape growled.

Harry nervously glanced at the furious professor. "Err…" He thickly swallowed and sheepishly smiled. "We were in the library, _studying_ , Professor. Honest. And then, we lost track of time and, um, got lost."

"In this abandoned loo?" A vein popped on Professor Snape's forehead.

"In this abandoned loo," Harry echoed, keeping his face straight.

The Potions Master scowled. "And here I was fervently hoping you'd be more like your mother every day, Harry Potter," he sighed, disappointment evident on his face. "I have no energy to deal with all of you. I think it'll be better if I brought you all to Professor Potter to be properly dealt with instead."

"No!" Harry gasped, face paling. "Not with Mum! She's the Head of the Ravenclaw House and none of us is in Ravenclaw. Getting her involved will be unnecessary."

Professor Snape's eyes narrowed into thin slits. "Your mother's the only one who can properly handle James Potter," he simply explained. "And seeing that you are dead-set in following in the footsteps of your incorrigible father, I'd rather she has a say on this matter than me."

All their protests fell to deaf ears as the Potions Master turned around and started to march towards the door.

"Mum might not even be at Hogwarts right now," Harry grumbled.

Professor Snape paused and turned around. "Oh, she's definitely here," he said, quirking an eyebrow at Harry's petulant frown. "And that's Professor Potter to you, _Potter_."

**-ooo-**

None of his best friends dared to move and Harry completely understood them. Hermione Potter rarely got mad. Students deemed her strict, yes, but she was an outstanding professor. The Arithmancy professor was famous for making individual colour-coded schedules for all of her students, and the young wizards and witches deeply respected her for her intelligence and kindness. However, when she loses her temper… _well_ , only a few people had ever seen her unleash the infamous Selwyn temper and as Harry Potter's best friends since they were wee babies in their nappies, Neville, Ron, and Draco had unfortunately borne witness to such a rarity.

Thus, Harry knew he had no other choice but to face his furious mother instead. He'd watched his father dance around such a thunderous temper and emerge unscathed and still very much in love with the witch. If James Potter could do it, Harry Potter could do it as well.

"Well?" his mother quietly asked. The way her blue eyes glinted dangerously in her dimly-lit office made him nervous all the more. At this time of the night, Hermione was usually at home with their family. Since it was nearing the end of term, Harry knew she'd been staying the night in Hogwarts to finish her lesson plans and grade end-of-term projects.

Harry cursed the lousy timing of everything and thickly swallowed. "Well, Mu – _err_ – Professor Potter," he slowly started. "It's…" Harry paused and briefly closed his eyes. He took a deep breath before remorsefully looking at his mother once more. "We apologise," he continued. "We were admittedly curious about the Chamber of Secrets, Professor Potter. It was my idea, actually. Please don't give them detention too. I forced them to join me tonight."

One thing he understood was that it would be useless to come up with a half-arsed lie when it came to Hermione Potter. Harry knew he'd be forgiven much quicker if he was truthful.

The silence stretched on for minutes and Harry could feel his best mates growing restless. Harry wasn't sure what his mother was feeling right now as her face was a perfect picture of calm indifference. _Which_ , to his dismay, was scarier than when Hermione's blue eyes were thunderous.

Then, to his surprise, Hermione stretched her hand and curled her fingers. "Give me the Map," she said. "I'm confiscating it."

Harry's blue eyes briefly widened before he schooled his features. "Map?" he innocently asked. "What map?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I know your father sneaked you the Map in first year, Harry," she sternly said. "The Invisibility Cloak, too. I know too that you and your friends had a talk with your father and his friends about all the Marauders codswallop. So yes, Harry, I know you have the Marauder's Map."

"Well, they did say you were the truest Marauder of them all, Mum."

"Don't get cheeky with me, young man," Hermione said. "Give me the Map and the Cloak. I'm confiscating it. I'm also deducting twenty points from the four of you."

"That's not fair!" Ron suddenly cried. He jutted a thumb at the sheepish Malfoy heir. "He's the only Slytherin among us four and we're _three_ Gryffindors. Sixty points will be immediately deducted from Gryffindor!"

Professor Potter's lips curled in dismay. "Well, you should have thought about that before breaking the rules tonight, Mr. Weasley," she coldly said, prompting Ron to turn a furious shade of red. "Also, all of you will have detention with Mr. Filch for the whole weekend."

Collective groans echoed in the Arithmancy professor's room, but Hermione ignored them all. "I'm waiting, Harry," she said.

The bespectacled wizard sighed and reluctantly pulled the Map and the Cloak from his robes. Hermione immediately snatched them away from his hands. "I will return them to you soon," she said, much to his surprise. "It is yours, after all. But remember to use them for a _good_ cause, Harry. I know your father and his best friends are famous in Hogwarts as pranksters through and through, and I understand you boys want some adventure to make your stay here at Hogwarts memorable, but rules are made so that you can adhere to them. Am I making myself clear?"

"Yes, Professor Potter," the four gloomily murmured.

Hermione sighed. "Alright. You may now return to your dormitories," she dismissed. His mother briefly held his hand, a silent gesture that she wasn't mad at him anymore, and Harry apologetically smiled at her in return.

Before the four boys could leave, Professor Potter suddenly stopped them.

Harry curiously looked at his mother and he couldn't understand the strange expression on her face. "The Chamber…" She faltered, her gaze solely on Harry. "Were you able to open it?"

The young Gryffindor sighed and shook his head. "Only a Parselmouth can open it, Mum," he reminded. "We had our turns but none of us could open it."

"Right, of course," she said, immediately turning her gaze away from the four. "Go on, then."

Harry hesitated, quite sure he'd seen her eyes briefly shine with unshed tears.

"Harry, come on," Neville then said, pulling Harry out of his mother's chambers.

The young Gryffindor stumbled behind his best friends and right before the door closed behind him, Harry craned his neck to look at his mother one last time.

There was a relieved smile on Hermione Potter's face.

* * *

_**1993** _

It was one of those nights when Harry couldn't sleep. Tomorrow would be a whirlwind of lessons and Quidditch practice, and he knew it would be disastrous to not get enough sleep. Still, try as he might, he couldn't sleep a wink.

The young Gryffindor sighed and hauled himself out of his four-poster bed. After a quick glance around his silent dormitory, he noted that all of his classmates were already asleep.

Harry sighed once more and rummaged inside his trunk, retrieving the Marauder's Map and Invisibility Cloak from inside. Perhaps if he requested some hot cocoa made by the house-elves in the school kitchens, it would help him get his much-deserved sleep.

" _I solemnly swear that I am up to no good_ ," he whispered, grinning as the ink bled on the old parchment to form an image of Hogwarts. His eyes roamed around the familiar spiel Uncle Sirius had made as a greeting, his lips stretching wider when the words shifted, bearing the words ' _Special thanks to Miss Whiskers, Muse and Mentor of the Marauders. The truest Marauder of us all."_

The Gryffindor fondly brushed his finger across the words before opening the map. He illuminated his wand over the kitchens and the nearby vicinity to check if there were any patrolling professors around. He spied Filch strolling around the Astronomy Tower. Professor Dumbledore was with Professor Snape in his office.

Harry glanced at his mother's office, just to make sure she was there still checking the papers of her students. But then, to his surprise, Professor Potter's office was empty.

He frowned, wondering if his mother had already gone home for the night. She specifically told him in passing a while ago she'd spend the night at Hogwarts today, as she was still too swamped with work. It wasn't her turn to patrol the corridors, either.

Harry's eyes roamed all over Hogwarts to search for his mother. He finally saw her standing just outside the great oak doors of the castle and she wasn't alone. The four dots of the Marauders were clustered around her, and all five of them were steadily striding out of the castle over the vast expanse of the Hogwarts field.

Without thinking, Harry jumped out of his bed and donned the Invisibility Cloak over his form. He quickly scanned the Marauder's Map for any hindrances along the way. He then strode out of the Gryffindor Tower and ran as fast as he could, to catch up with the others.

Once Harry burst out of the front doors, he peered down at the Map once more. To his astonishment, the group's destination was the dangerous Whomping Willow sitting on top of a small hill near Hogwarts. Harry clearly remembered that place was off-limits to everybody, seeing that its thick branches had almost killed a student before.

Curiosity now got the better of him, and Harry was propelled to quicken his pace.

As he neared the Whomping Willow, Hermione and the others were already gone. What caught his attention, though, was the immobile tree. Harry immediately sought for a possible entrance and spied a small hole just underneath one of the thick branches of the tree.

Harry knew he wasn't supposed to be here. Harry _definitely_ knew he'd be punished if he was caught. But he was too curious to back out now, and with a last glance over his shoulder, Harry crawled through the small hole.

He found himself walking along a narrow cave. His heart was already pounding loudly inside his ribcage in anticipation, and different theories as to what awaited him on the other end rushed into his mind.

At last, he could see a dim light at the end of the tunnel. He could hear soft voices too and Harry hastened his steps.

But then, an ear-splitting howl almost shattered his eardrums and Harry was brought to a standstill. For a moment, fear gripped his heart, afraid of what he'd see at the end of the tunnel. Harry was very much tempted to turn back around and run away as another howl rankled him to the bone, but, he remembered his parents were on the other side.

Cold fear was now mixed with panic, wondering if his parents were alright. Despite the debilitating fear, Harry forced himself to emerge out of the tunnel to save his parents.

"MU—"

His words died down as his mouth hanged open. Opposite him stood a werewolf, his familiar, golden eyes staring widely at him. Harry distractedly noticed his Uncle Sirius and dad in their Animagi form, their huge bodies shielding the werewolf away from him. The young Gryffindor heard a small squeak, prompting him to gasp upon recognising his Uncle Peter scuttling around his feet in a panic.

And then, the cat in the room suddenly transformed into his mother. Her face was pale and her blue eyes were wide open in shock as she cautiously approached him. "Harry!" she breathlessly cried. "What are you doing here?"

"A-a… there's a…" He faltered, eyes growing wider as the werewolf pushed the black dog and white stag away and slowly moved towards Harry.

Instantly, Hermione was in front of him, arms spread wide. "Remus," she strongly started, "you've taken the Wolfsbane Potion. You know that you're not supposed to hurt humans."

"Remus?" Harry faintly gasped.

The werewolf's golden eyes snapped back towards Harry and the bespectacled boy immediately recognised one of his father's best friends. There was also familiarity in the creature's eyes, as he slowly backed away until he was pressed against one corner of the Shrieking Shack, curling tightly into a ball.

"Harry," his mother urgently said, her hand snaking around his wrist. "Let's go."

The white stag transformed into his father, a gaunt expression on his face. "Let me come with you," James said, his hazel eyes almost dark brown under the dim lights of the Shack. His lips were pressed into a grim line, and Harry instantly knew he'd done something gravely wrong.

James latched onto his other arm and pulled him away. Harry didn't protest, allowing his parents to guide him back out of the Shack into the tunnel. Before they completely left, however, Harry craned his neck once more to look back at his Uncle Remus. Uncle Sirius in his Animagus form was partially shielding the werewolf from Harry's astonished gaze, but Harry was able to meet Remus's golden eyes once more.

 _Shame_.

There was shame in his eyes.

"Harry," Hermione urged, prompting the young boy to snap his gaze forwards and continue their trek back to Hogwarts.

Thick silence blanketed over the small family as they meandered through the dark corridors of Hogwarts until they reached the Arithmancy Professor's office. Hermione sat Harry down on one of the chairs in front of her desk and disappeared inside her personal bedchambers to prepare some tea. His father had chosen to stiffly stand near one of the windows, the uncharacteristic grim expression still etched on his face.

Harry determinedly stared at his lap even when his mother placed a steaming cup of tea in front of him.

"Have a sip, Harry," she then urged, pushing the hot beverage closer to him.

Still not meeting their gazes, Harry tentatively lifted the cup from the saucer and pressed it against his lips. He took a few sips before he noted a peculiar taste washing over his tongue. Instantly, every nerve in his body had calmed down until there was only pleasant humming in his mind.

He shot a surprised look at his mother. "Calming Draught," she explained. "I'm sorry, love. You looked like you needed it."

Harry merely nodded his head and placed it back down on the small plate. At the same time, his father pushed himself off the wall and deliberately approached him. "Harry," James started, "you're not supposed to be out of bed."

"I know," he remorsefully said, glancing at his lap once more. "But I couldn't sleep tonight so I thought of sneaking to the kitchens to get myself some hot cocoa. I checked the Marauder's Map to see if other professors were near but then…"

He left his word dangle. They all knew what had happened next, anyway.

Hermione expelled a huge sigh. "I knew it would be disastrous when you gave him the Map, James Potter," his mother tutted. Harry watched as his mother threw a glare at his sheepish father.

"It's rightfully his," he reasoned out. "The Cloak, too."

"The werewolf," Harry suddenly blurted out. Both of his parents stiffened and cautiously looked at him. "It was a werewolf, wasn't it? And that werewolf, it was… it was _Uncle_ _Remus_."

"Harry," Hermione sighed. "It's—"

But the young Gryffindor wasn't done. "He recognised me, Mum," he insisted. "And I saw his eyes. They're the same as Uncle Remus's."

"You're not supposed to know," James then said. He sauntered towards Hermione's desk and leaned against it, facing his son.

"Everything suddenly makes sense," Harry replied. "I always thought it was mighty weird that all of you are Animagi, _except_ Remus. One thing I understood about your friendship is that you do almost everything together, Dad. Besides, Remus is very much capable of becoming an Animagus like the rest of you."

The boy grew quiet and silently nibbled his bottom lip. He'd speculated long before that something was definitely iffy with their Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor. There were days when Remus looked tired to the bone to the point that he had to ditch classes and Uncle Sev would teach them instead. Now that he properly thought about it, Remus was always absent at least _once_ a month. The weird scars on his body, the strange colour of his eyes, his odd preferences when it came to meat… _everything_ finally made sense and Harry felt so stupid for failing to piece everything together before.

"Since when was he a…"

"Since he was a small boy," James softly replied. His father's face grew forlorn, his lips stretching into a sad smile. "He always had it worse before the Wolfsbane Potion was invented. Thank Merlin he remembered to drink his potion tonight or else…"

Both of his parents paled, identical looks of terror appearing on their faces. Harry felt remorseful once more for putting himself into danger and he would never forgive himself if something disastrous had happened tonight.

"We've known since we were in second year," his father continued. "Remus was incorrigible when we found out. He wanted to push us away but we're _persistent_. We're the _Marauders_ , for heaven's sake! Brothers through and through. So, we tried to research how to at least accompany Remus during his transformations."

"By becoming Animagi," Harry said, clarity now on his face. "I remembered Remus once lecturing us that werewolves never recognised Animagi as humans. Hence, they're not _prey_."

James nodded. "Naturally, we tried to become one," he said. "Took us a few years because you know how painstaking the instructions are." A grin appeared on his father's face when he jutted a thumb at the silent witch beside him. "Your mother managed to do it in just a few months, what with her unending patience."

"Harry," Hermione then said, reaching forward to hold his hand. "No one must know about this, okay? You know how obstinate the laws are with regards to werewolves. Remus is… he couldn't control himself, which is why he's religiously taken the Wolfsbane Potion. We try to be with him during his transformations, just to protect both him and Hogwarts."

"I'm not going to tell," Harry promised with vehemence. "Just because he's a werewolf doesn't make him any less of a human, Mum."

The proud smile on Hermione's face was unmistakable. His father grinned and mused up his already messy hair. "Now that it's settled," James started, "I think it is best if you return to your dormitory now, mate. We don't want Filch to catch you out of bed, yeah?"

"Yeah," Harry grinned, mirroring the mischievous grin his father was sporting.

"Before you leave, though, I'm afraid that's twenty points from Gryffindor for being out of bed," James tutted, his grin morphing into a stern frown. "I'm very disappointed with you, Harry Potter."

"You can't do that!" the young Gryffindor cried. "You're not even a professor here, Dad."

"But I can," Hermione piped in. "So yes, twenty points from Gryffindor. Also…" She extended her hand and curled her fingers. "The Map and the Cloak, Harry."

Harry sighed, not even bothering to protest, as he produced his trusted possessions and passed them to his mother.

"Very disappointing, Harry," James tutted, the corners of his lips twitching.

The bespectacled boy rolled his eyes. "I'm sure from your stories, you're worse than me, Dad," Harry shot back.

" _Much_ worse," Hermione agreed with a solemn nod.

James broke into a huge grin and snaked an arm around the witch. "But you still love me," the Auror singsonged, smacking a loud kiss against her cheek.

"Please don't be gross in front of me," Harry grumbled, making a face.

"You have no right speaking to us like that, young man. Especially after giving us quite a scare," James immediately shot back, his smile now teasing.

Harry was reminded once more of how lucky he was tonight that Remus had taken the Wolfsbane Potion and that his parents were there with him. "I'm sorry for making you both worry," he murmured.

Hermione sighed and pulled Harry into a small hug. "I know you've inherited your father's annoying thirst for adventure," the brunette started, "but I wish you're more careful in the future, Harry. Your father's already a handful and I wish my children would be good and obedient."

"Yes, Harry, don't be like me," James concurred wholeheartedly.

A laugh escaped from Harry's mouth as he tugged his father to join in their hug.

**-ooo-**

"Professor Lupin."

It didn't escape Harry's notice how the DADA professor stiffened upon being called out. "Harry," Remus coolly asked, his golden eyes looking anywhere _but_ the young Gryffindor.

Harry took a deep breath and offered him a kind smile. He then rummaged inside his robe pockets and produced a chocolate bar. "I'm not going to tell," he said. He then lifted his right hand, his smile stretching wider. "Marauder's honour."

Remus's eyes slightly misted as a shaky smile appeared on his face. "Thank you, Harry," he softly replied.

The young third year bid him goodbye and almost ran out to catch up with his best mates, but the professor called his name once more.

"Yeah?"

Remus slowly sat down on his desk and beamed at Harry. His golden eyes were impossibly bright as he leant forward and said, "Are you familiar with the Patronus Charm?"

* * *

_**1994** _

Draco whistled as he sidled behind his best mates in the Gryffindor table. "Nice robes, Weasley," he laughed.

Ron's face matched his red hair as he darkly glared at the Slytherin. "Shut up, Malfoy," he growled, hastily stuffing the atrocious dress robes his mother had sent him inside the box. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I saw some commotion from the Slytherin table, so I got curious," Draco casually shrugged, pushing Neville and Harry aside just so he could climb in the middle. "Tell you what, Ron. If you promise to sneak me some of your twin brothers' wicked inventions, I'll lend you some of my _less frilly_ robes. Deal?"

Harry snorted when Ron eagerly thrust his hand. "Bloody hell, _yes_ ," the redhead cried, furiously shaking Draco's right hand with evident relief on his face.

"Why do we have to go to this ridiculous Yule Ball?" Neville whined as his forehead connected with the tabletop. "This is such a hassle."

"I think it's brilliant," Harry retorted. "Imagine seeing Fleur Delacour in a lovely dress."

A glazed look settled on the four boys' faces, their eyes seeking out the beautiful Beauxbatons Champion chatting with students from the Ravenclaw table. Harry spied his eleven-year-old sister, Stella, not too far away from Fleur, who was clearly enraptured by the French witch.

"Do you think she'll agree to come with me?" Ron sighed, a besotted look settling on his face.

"Wanker, keep dreaming on," Draco snorted. "I heard she already agreed to go with Roger Davies."

Ron made a face. "I'm more good looking than him!" he cried.

" _Right_ , and I have the best vision in this whole school," Harry sniped, earning him an annoyed smack from the Weasley. The bespectacled boy laughed while rubbing his smarting arm, his eyes now landing on the Hogwarts Champion, Cedric Diggory. " _Diggory's_ the luckiest bastard, though. I heard he's going with Cho Chang. She's _beautiful_."

"Ack, the googly eyes must stop, Harry," Neville cried. "You know you have no chance with her, right?"

Harry's cheeks reddened. "Hey, a guy can bloody dream," he grumbled.

Ron swung an arm over Harry's shoulder and grinned. "To hell with girls," he said. "Why don't we just go stag and pester Viktor Krum 'til the ball ends with our inane Quidditch talk?"

"He's not much of a talker, if you must know," Draco pointed out. "He mostly kept to himself. Weird bloke, but he's a really brilliant Quidditch player." A sneaky smirk appeared on his face. "Fawley's having a field day with all of Krum's Quidditch tips, so watch out next year, Potter. Slytherin will definitely crush the Gryffindor Quidditch Team."

Harry snorted. "That's not possible, Malfoy," he growled. "You know that."

"Oh yeah? Want to bet on it?" the blond asked, grey eyes glinting with a challenge. Harry had seen the same look from Sirius one too many times. Draco Malfoy was definitely a Black through and through.

"A yearlong supply of toffees if I win, Malfoy," Harry said.

" _Fine_. But if you lose, I get to borrow Firebolt for two games."

"What?!" Harry cried. "No way!"

"The stakes must be high, Potter," Draco said, his smirk morphing into a wide grin. "Take it or leave it."

"Merlin, here they go again," Neville sighed.

" _Fine_ ," Harry said, vehemently clutching onto Draco's hand for a vigorous shake.

"I'm sure you will forget about this anyway," Ron pointed out with a laugh.

Both Harry and Draco glared at Ron. "Shut up, Ronald," they snarled at the same time, prompting the redhead to raise both of his hands in surrender.

**-ooo-**

Asking a witch as his date for the Yule Ball was starting to stress Harry out. Going alone without a date seemed tempting; he honestly would rather hang out with his best friends and enjoy the ball all throughout the night, but his best friends _all_ had dates already. Neville asked Hannah Abbot, Draco managed to make Pansy Parkinson agree, and Ron was going with Padma Patil. He knew he'd be left alone during the Yule Ball if he attended without a date.

His thoughts were snapped back to reality when he felt the couch in the Gryffindor Common Room sink beside him. His blue eyes met the emeralds of one of his childhood friends, second year Iris Snape, prompting him to smile. The raven-haired witch, on the other hand, rolled her eyes. "Quit moping around, Potter," she sighed. "And just ask Ginny Weasley to the Yule Ball."

His cheeks instantly flushed red. "G-Ginny Weasley?" he stuttered, shifting his gaze away from the Gryffindor witch. "Don't be ridiculous, Iris."

" _Merlin_ , you do realise you make these googly eyes when you look at her, yeah?" she asked, a small smirk that was eerily reminiscent of Professor Snape's slipping onto her freckled face. "I heard she's yet to be asked to the Yule Ball so quit being a ninny and just bloody ask her out, Harry Potter."

"Language," Harry tsked, but the corner of his lips twitched in amusement. "And… you know that it'll be mighty weird, Iris. She's Ron's _little sister_."

"And?" she asked with a laugh. "It's definitely common in your family, yeah?"

Harry echoed her laugh, remembering a particular story of how his Uncle Peter almost hexed his father to the moon and back when he found out he was taking his little sister on a date in Hogsmeade. "Ron's good with his spells," he pointed out. "I'm sure he'd be merciless."

"And you're good with defence," Iris flippantly offered. "I don't see any problem here, Harry. Except for your cowardice."

"Always the sweetest girl, aren't we?" Harry sighed, reaching forward to pinch Iris's cheek. "I was thinking of taking you to the Yule Ball instead, you know."

To his surprise, her cheeks turned ruddy. "Eww, Harry, _please_ ," she cried, pushing him away. "I'm in _second year_. And I don't see you in… in _that_ way."

Harry laughed and teasingly mused her hair. "As friends, Iris, blimey," he said. "What the hell were you even thinking?"

The younger Gryffindor narrowed her eyes into thin slits and punched him on the arm. "You're an annoying git," she grumbled.

"If only I was the Hogwarts Champion, perhaps I'd easily snag a date," he joked.

Iris snorted, clearly unamused. "Don't be ridiculous, Harry," she said. "A fourth year cannot be a Triwizard Champion. Besides, Cedric Diggory is way better than you, in _all_ ways, if I'm being perfectly honest."

"Right, okay, I think that was unnecessary," Harry said, quirking an eyebrow in amusement.

"If you don't ask Ginny Weasley now, I'm going to do it for you instead," Iris then said.

Harry weakly laughed and shook his head. "I'm not going to bother anymore," he sighed. "I think I'll just go alone to the Yule Ball and try to embarrass my best friends in front of their dates."

Iris frowned and Harry suddenly didn't like the look in her eyes. He'd seen the same expression on his Aunt Lily numerous times, right before she'd do something that would exasperate her husband. Harry knew he should have sprung into action before Iris did something stupid, but the second year Gryffindor was already jumping to her feet.

"Hey Ginny!" she called.

"Wha— Are you _insane_?" he cried, trying to tug Iris down but the emerald-eyed Gryffindor refused to budge.

"Yeah?" the youngest Weasley asked, prompting Harry to hide further into the couch.

"Harry thinks it'd be wicked if you go to the Yule Ball with him," Iris bluntly said. Harry felt his cheeks reddening in mortification, but Iris hauled him onto his feet and forced him to look at Ginny.

To his surprise, Ginny's face matched her hair, prompting him to awkwardly grin. "Err, so umm, will you, err…" He flinched when Iris smacked him on the underside of his head.

"Talk coherently, you berk," she furiously whispered under her breath.

Despite his nervousness, Harry laughed and ran a hand through his impossibly messy hair. "Will you go to the Yule Ball with me, Ginny?"

If it were possible, Ginny's face turned redder. "Alright," she said, a shy grin now appearing on her face.

"Alright," Harry echoed, unable to suppress his silly grin anymore. "Alright. Brilliant. So, um, I'll wait for you here, yeah?"

Ginny tucked a stray red strand behind her ear. "Yeah," she said. "Um, goodbye." She then turned to her friends, who started giggling under their breaths while dragging the redhead away.

"Well, that wasn't so hard now, was it?"

Harry felt his cheeks smarting from his too-wide smile. "I really dislike you right now, Iris Snape," he simply replied. "But _Godric_ , thank you. How can I ever repay you?"

"How about I get half of the yearlong supply of toffees you'll be getting from Draco?" she cheekily asked.

Harry snorted. "You heard that ridiculous bet?" he asked.

"Well, you boys are always the loudest when you're together," she stated matter-of-factly. "Everybody practically knows about this bet of yours."

Harry laughed once more. "Alright, fine," he said. His grin turned cheeky as he reached forwards and pinched one of her cheeks once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of Harry's Hogwarts life will be posted tomorrow, just so you know.
> 
> I don't really know what made me write this. I always felt like I should write something about Harry's AU in this world created by his best friend-turned-Mum. I wrote this while we were in the middle of a storm and although none of the scenes is gloomy, I was pretty sad imaging this life Harry had because of Hermione's sacrifices. I just really wanted him to be happy huhu. So yeah.
> 
> See you tomorrow (I can't believe I'm saying this again haha)!
> 
> P.S. Follow me on tumblr (kimmy-writes). This pandemic had really taken a toll on my mental health and I'm kinda lonely sometimes so we can talk about weird stuff over there if you fancy (as long as I'm free from my internship shite).
> 
> P.P.S. Sorry for not updating Invisible yet hahaha. Next chapter is about 30-40% complete but I got swamped with Netflix and internship stuff so I'll get back to that soon.


	3. chapter three

**Summary:** Harry Potter lived a very ordinary life.  
**Rating:** T  
**Warnings:** Some cussing  
**Characters:** Harry Potter, Neville Longbottom, Ron Weasley, Iris Snape, Stella Potter, Leon Potter, Draco Malfoy, Hermione Pettigrew-Potter, James Potter, Ginny Weasley, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew, Severus Snape

* * *

**3.**

_the universe was made just to be seen by my eyes – part ii_

(Saturn by Sleeping at Last)

* * *

_**1995** _

Everybody knew why Senior Undersecretary Dolores Umbridge was sent to Hogwarts.

The Ministry insisted Hogwarts needed to be supervised for a few months, especially after the disastrous Third Task of the Triwizard Tournament that almost cost Cedric Diggory his life. His father, a respectable Ministry employee, was furious at the mishap that had injured his precious son and had demanded some sort of compensation from Dumbledore. The Headmaster was deeply remorseful, of course, and had met Amos's demands.

Cornelius Fudge had then taken this opportunity to send one of his trusted employees to oversee the appropriateness of the curriculum in said school, making sure that the students were well-equipped in case they were confronted with similar events in their future.

Everybody in Hogwarts knew, of course, that this was just Fudge's stupid lie, so he could snoop around and search for a possible scandalous piece of news that could implicate Dumbledore in something nefarious. Fudge was known to have a not-so-secret hatred towards the Headmaster of Hogwarts for the longest time. Even Dumbledore knew about this, but he'd indulged the Minister lest he weaved a web of lies that would be more disastrous to handle.

Harry instantly felt dread when Dolores Umbridge was introduced during their Welcoming Feast. Her gaudy pink outfit and simpering smile were enough to warn Harry that she was bad news and thus, he'd made it a point not to cross paths with her as much as he could.

The Senior Undersecretary was perhaps the most condescending person Harry had ever met. He silently observed as she criticised his professors without batting an eye, her sickeningly sweet smile enough to send shivers down his spine. She even dared to insult Uncle Sev's way of teaching right to the sourpuss's face; it was a miracle she had left the Potions Lab unscathed.

Harry also heard how she'd been incorrigible in his mother's class. He wasn't interested in Arithmancy too much—that was more Stella's expertise—and thus had no qualms in not taking the subject. But then, one day, Stella cornered her older brother, a thunderous expression on her face.

"I _hate_ her," she vehemently spat, her bushy hair almost crackling with unsuppressed rage. Harry cautiously pulled Stella away from any spectators, knowing full well unleashing her Selwyn temper would be catastrophic for anybody within a five-meter radius. As her older brother who'd grown up with her for years and also the possessor of the infamous Selwyn blood, Harry was long immune to her terrible tantrums.

"Umbridge?" he tentatively asked, flinching a bit when her hazel eyes dangerously flashed.

"She insulted _Mum_ ," she harshly cried. Her hands were now balled into tight fists at her side. "Said her colour-coded schedules for her students were too over-the-top and, I quote the bloody bint, 'Are a waste of her time when clearly no one appreciated her efforts'!"

Harry's blue eyes grew wide in horror and indignation. At the same time, angry tears gathered in Stella's eyes. "Mum's colour-coded schedules are wonderful and I know she's a bit barmy for painstakingly making one _every_ year for _all_ of her students but how dare she tell her no one appreciates her efforts!"

Stella angrily swiped her tears away, her hazel eyes now growing darker with fierce determination. "I'm going to Owl Dad and tell him what happened," she resolutely said. "He's already a Senior Auror. He might be able to do something about that… about that… that toad!"

The older Gryffindor sighed and patted her head. "I don't think that will be necessary," he said. "Dad will fly into a blind rage and make everything worse, I'm sure." He cracked a wry smile when she made a move to protest. "And Stella, honestly, do you think Mum will let this slide? You and I both know she's already formulating a plan that will scare the ugly toad away."

Stella petulantly pouted. "I will never forgive her," she softly spat.

Harry grimly nodded his head. "Neither will I."

**-ooo-**

Harry frowned when Dolores Umbridge suddenly barged inside their DADA classroom, that same simpering smile colouring her face.

"Good afternoon, Professor Lupin," she sweetly greeted. It didn't escape Harry's notice when Remus grimaced a bit upon seeing her, before schooling his expression behind a mask of politeness.

"Senior Undersecretary Umbridge," he greeted in reply.

"Please do continue," she said, already sauntering towards the back of the classroom to sit one of the chairs. "I'll be here just to observe."

"I'm getting nauseous just looking at her clothes," Ron whispered under his breath, prompting Neville and Draco to burst into soft sniggers. Harry quickly shushed them when Remus threw a warning glance at their table, before the werewolf went back to his lessons.

Remus then cleared his throat and smiled at his class. "Now, as I was saying, today we will be learning about the Reductor Curse," he said. "Simply put, this spell will blast whatever solid object it hits into pieces."

He then waved his wand and a few dummies appeared in front of his class. "The incantation for this spell is _'Reducto'_ ," he said. "Repeat after me, please. _Reducto_."

The class eagerly echoed the incantation, prompting his smile to widen. "Excellent," the DADA Professor said. "Now, I will call you by fives and you will simultaneously aim your spell towards these dummies and—"

"Hem, hem."

"—whoever can successfully blast a dummy first will receive ten points for their House and—"

"Hem, hem."

"—whoever is unable to blast the dummies will—"

" _Hem, hem_."

—will get - _Yes_ , Senior Undersecretary Umbridge?"

Remus looked deeply annoyed, but Umbridge was unfazed. Harry watched as the Ministry employee sauntered towards the very front of the room, that irritating condescending smile once again plastered on her face. "If I may ask, Professor Lupin, what are you teaching the children?" she asked.

The werewolf knitted his eyebrows, confused. "The Reductor Charm, Ma'am," he matter-of-factly stated. "I'm sure you were listening when I said it a while ago."

"Hmm," Umbridge said, glancing down at her clipboard and jotting down notes that made Remus mighty uncomfortable. "And you are teaching these students how to practically apply these _dangerous_ spells you're teaching?"

Remus gave her a clipped nod.

"Oh, dear me," the witch gasped, furiously jotting more notes on her clipboard.

Now, Harry knew that his Uncle Remus was the most patient among his father's group of friends. He'd seen how his father and Uncle Sirius were the most incorrigible. His Uncle Peter had his surprising moments, too, and Remus had merely sighed and shaken his head, exasperated by his best friends' antics.

Which was why, to his surprise, a dark look crossed over Remus's face. He'd only seen this expression a handful of times, mostly directed at his best friends, and Harry knew this look didn't bode well.

"If _I_ may ask, Senior Undersecretary Umbridge," Remus said through gritted teeth. "What are you writing on your clipboard?"

"Oh, my notes about your class, of course," she simply said, her simpering smile stretching wider when Remus narrowed his eyes. "Frankly, Professor Lupin, I think your way of teaching will bring more harm than good to your students. Young Mr. Diggory suffered from injuries due to the various dark spells thrown at him by the other Champions of the Triwizard Tournament. I believe that if you teach these innocent children more dangerous spells, it will only lead to more casualties."

"And _surely_ , if young Mr. Diggory wasn't able to properly defend himself, he wouldn't be listening to his lessons right at this very moment," Remus harshly sniped.

Umbridge grew affronted and jotted more notes on her clipboard. Harry thickly swallowed, noting how Remus was growing more thunderous as minutes passed by.

"If I may suggest, Professor Lupin," she continued, ignoring the dark glare given to her by the DADA Professor. "I think it will be better if the children read the standard DADA textbook instead. At least they will enrich their growing minds with theories of various defensive spells _and_ avoid getting injured whilst in class. If I were their professor, that is what I'd do."

"Good thing you're not the professor then," Remus coolly said.

Umbridge's eyes widened. "I beg your pardon?" she gasped, scandalised. She furiously wrote things on her clipboard once more. "I think you are not suited for this position, Professor Lupin. After reviewing your records, I also noticed that you're always absent at least once a month. Why is that?"

The scars on their professor's face grew starker as his face paled. "Health issues," he clipped.

"Well now, I don't think students deserve a teacher with certain… _'health issues'_ ," Umbridge deliberately said, her eyes narrowing with a calculated look.

"You can't fire him. Professor Lupin is a brilliant teacher!"

It was too late when Harry realised he'd spoken out of turn. All eyes were immediately on him and his cheeks grew hot, yet he lifted his chin resolutely. Umbridge's eyes were now settled on him, a surprised look on her face. Her annoying smile grew on her face once more as she walked away from their pale professor towards Harry.

"What the hell are you doing, Potter?" Draco furiously whispered as he tried to pull Harry back down onto his seat.

Harry stubbornly stayed put and continued, "Professor Lupin has been teaching us since we were first years and he's been brilliant. I think letting us students read the textbook instead of practising the spells will defeat the very purpose of why Defence Against the Dark Arts class was created. This can prepare us in case we came across some evil wizards in the future."

Umbridge's smile grew tight. "Evil wizards?" she gasped, a hand flying to her chest. "Dear me, there are no such things. The Wizarding World is _safe_. There is no Dark Lord anymore."

"Well, _yes_ , of course, Voldemort's dead," Harry said through gritted teeth, ignoring how Umbridge flinched at how he'd casually mentioned the deceased wizard. "But my Dad is an Auror and he's still battling evil wizards _every day_."

The witch was steadily growing purple. "What is your name, lad?" she demanded.

"Harry Potter," he proudly said.

A surprising sneer appeared on Umbridge's face. "Ah, James Potter's son," she spat. "That explains it."

Harry's blue eyes narrowed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Harry," Remus called, a warning glint in his golden eyes. "Sit down."

" _No_!" Harry snarled. "She's insulting you, Uncle Remus. I can't just keep quiet." He recalled Stella's words story a few days ago and grew angrier. "She insulted _Mum_."

"Oh, Merlin, the Selwyn temper appears," Neville bemoaned, glancing at Ron and Draco for help. Harry's best friends grabbed onto his arm and with one mighty tug, they were able to sit him back down on his seat.

Harry bristled and tried to pull away, but the three just kept their hold tighter.

"Twenty points from Gryffindor for your insolence today, Mr. Potter," Umbridge shrilly cried. "As appointed by the Minister himself, I have the power over both the professors and students during my stay here in Hogwarts. That includes giving me the temporary ability to deduct points _and_ to give detention."

"Senior Undersecretary Umbridge, I think giving him detention is unnecessary," Remus reasoned out.

"Silence, Professor Lupin," she said, her eyes still trained intently on the furious Gryffindor. "You are to come to my office tomorrow night to serve your detention, Mr. Potter." She then turned to Remus and flashed her simpering smile. "Good day, Professor Lupin. Please expect to hear my report in a few days or so."

Umbridge then strolled out of the DADA classroom, her kitten heels annoyingly clicking and clacking against the stone floor.

All Harry was able to do was glare at her pink, frilly back.

**-ooo-**

Breakfast the next day brought some startling news from Headmaster Dumbledore. Senior Undersecretary Umbridge was met with an unfortunate accident last night and was immediately rushed to St. Mungo's. At the same time, she was forever banned from Hogwarts upon discovering illegal Blood Quills in her office, which she used during her detention sessions with the students.

Ron whistled under his breath. "Aren't you supposed to have your detention with Umbridge tonight?" the redhead asked, glancing at the surprised raven-haired boy. "Lucky, that's what you are."

"Thank Merlin she's gone," a pale Neville said. "I heard Blood Quills are nasty tools used for _torture_. Our parents will surely go berserk when they discover Umbridge was using Blood Quills for detention."

"Yeah," Harry distracted said, his eyes landing on his mother seated in between Remus and Sev.

Harry firmly believed his mother had something to do with Umbridge's strange accident and immediate dismissal from Hogwarts.

_Merlin_ , her smile was frightening.

* * *

_**1996** _

"Wake up!"

Harry's eyes flew open as pain bloomed in his arm. He wildly blinked, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the dark. Seeing as he'd inherited his father's atrocious eyesight, Harry was only able to make out an outline of a girl hovering over his bed.

A _girl_ in their dormitories!

"What the hell?" he cried, reaching out for his glasses and pushing them up the bridge of his nose.

"Shh," Iris furiously whispered. "We don't want the others to wake up."

"Iris, bloody hell, what are you doing here?" he asked, this time softer.

"Get up," she said instead. "We have an emergency meeting."

"What?" he stupidly asked, still disoriented from sleep. Iris was now tugging him out of his bed and threw his Invisibility Cloak towards him.

"If you're not out of this room in five minutes, I'm going to Bat-Bogey Hex you, Harry Potter," she sternly said as she completely strode out from his room.

Harry sighed and glanced at his bedside clock, noting it was only one in the morning. A soft yawn tore out of his lips as he groggily tore his curtains open. He quickly scanned his bedroom, noting that both Neville's and Ron's beds were empty.

Frowning, Harry finally walked out of his bedroom. In the Common Room stood Iris and Neville, the latter sporting a sheepish smile on his face. "Sorry, mate," he said. "I couldn't wake you up but Iris was determined to get you so…"

"What's going on?" Harry then asked, his question directed at the emerald-eyed witch.

"We have an emergency meeting," she repeated, tugging the Invisibility Cloak out of Harry's grasp and draping it over the three of them. Iris was sandwiched between the two towering boys and Harry's eyes widened a bit, wondering when the witch's skin had started to feel this soft.

"Where's Ron?" Neville whispered, breaking Harry out of his surprised stupor.

"He's already in the kitchens with the others," was her simple explanation.

"Kitchens?" the bespectacled boy echoed. "What the hell's going on?"

Iris merely shushed him and urged them to quicken their steps. Harry sighed in frustration and reluctantly followed the determined witch.

By the time they reached the portrait guarding the entrance to the kitchens, Iris had pulled off the Invisibility Cloak. She then tickled the pear, which giggled before a doorknob materialised. Iris turned the knob and pushed the door open, ushering the two boys inside.

Harry was drawn to a halt, eyes widening in surprise at the scene right before his eyes. The house-elves were in a frenzy, preparing various scrumptious snacks and steaming cups of hot cocoa. There was a bewitched long table in the middle of the kitchen, and seated on the different seats were Harry's friends. Ron was playing Wizard's Chess with Ginny and Draco. Stella was animatedly talking with Luna Lovegood and a wide-eyed, twelve-year-old Ivy Snape about god-knows-what.

He felt like he was back home in Potter Cottage, where all of his friends and family were gathered around one long table, conversing over food and drink.

"What the hell's going on?" Harry asked once more, bringing all conversation inside the kitchens to a halt. His eyes immediately landed on his sister, who stiffened upon seeing him and resolutely looked away.

This brought out a frown on Harry's face. He knew his relationship with his sister was always strained every time the Quidditch finals were fast approaching. As both Seekers of their respective Houses, they understandably clashed one too many times mid-air. Harry acknowledged Stella's wicked skills, but he was _still_ the best Seeker of his generation (not that he was boastful about that, no). Stella just couldn't accept that and strived harder every year just so she could prove that _she_ was better than her brother.

"That," Iris quipped, unabashedly pointing her finger at the annoyed Ravenclaw.

Harry blinked and glanced down at the younger witch. "You mean, you dragged everybody into the kitchen just so my sister and I can _reconcile_?" he asked incredulously.

Two, pink patches bloomed on Iris's cheeks but her gaze was resolute. "It's always so inconvenient for us when you two fight," she pointed out. To Harry's surprise, all of his friends nodded their heads in unison. "It's annoying, Potter. And over something as frivolous as Quidditch!"

"Quidditch is not frivolous!" the Potter siblings cried at the same time, prompting them to glance at each other in surprise.

A snort flew out of Iris's lips. "Well, it's good to know you both agree about something," she said. Iris then pulled Harry and sat him down beside Stella. She then directed Harry's best friends to make sure the two wouldn't leave without making up.

"I need to sleep for the match tonight," Stella whined.

"Then the faster you make up, the faster you go to sleep, yeah?" Iris simply said, sauntering towards Luna and her younger sister.

"She's so annoying sometimes," Stella sighed, frowning at the tabletop.

Despite his initial annoyance, Harry managed to crack a smile. "That's Iris Snape, alright," he chuckled.

His sister tensed a bit at his laugh and resolutely looked away from him once more.

"Stella," Harry sighed, "Come on. This is getting ridiculous. We shouldn't fight over Quidditch, of all bloody things."

Stella's cheeks turned ruddy. "You wouldn't understand," she spat. "You're always the best when it comes to Quidditch."

"Does it really matter?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow. "You weren't this obsessed with Quidditch before. I mean, compared to me, you viewed it more like a hobby than a potential career in the future, you know."

The bushy-haired witch expelled a huge sigh and glanced at him warily. "Dad's going to watch tomorrow," she stated matter-of-factly.

"So?" he asked. "He always watches the final Quidditch match of the year."

"Never mind, I knew you wouldn't understand," she grumbled, already half-way out of the bench.

"Bloody Merlin, wait," Harry said, clarity now on his face. "Are you always mad at me before the final Quidditch match because Dad's watching andyou don't want to disappoint him?"

She turned her face away from him, but Harry had caught the expression she made, which was answer enough for Harry already. "Merlin and Morgana, so it _really_ is because of that," he exclaimed in disbelief, a laugh slipping past his lips.

"Stop laughing, you berk," she said, slapping his arm to silence him. "I don't want to disappoint Dad. He expects so much from me."

"Oh Merlin, Stella," the bespectacled boy grinned, running a hand through his hair. "You will never disappoint Dad. You're his bloody favourite, for Godric's sake. Everything you do in his eyes is nothing short of perfect."

Stella snorted, although there was already a smile on her face. "Dad can be such a sap sometimes," she concurred.

"I can't believe you stop talking to me days before a match between our Houses just because of _that_ ," Harry chuckled. He laughingly dodged her hand and grinned. "You know I still won't go easy on you tomorrow, yeah? I'm the Captain, Stella. It won't do well for my record if my little sister bested me in Quidditch."

"I'll beat you into a pulp tomorrow, Harry Potter. You just wait," she determinedly said.

Harry grinned. "Oh, I can't bloody wait."

**-ooo-**

The Gryffindor Quidditch team won against the Ravenclaw Quidditch, with a final score of 180-170. The Gryffindor team was, predictably in an uproar at the final result but the Quidditch Captain was nowhere near happy.

"That was brilliant!" Neville cried, running towards Ron and Harry once they landed back on the ground.

"Gryffindor wins the House Cup again," Draco pointed out with a sigh, rolling his eyes. "No surprise there."

Ron swung an arm over a grumpy Harry's shoulders and offered a smile. "Cheer up, mate," he said. "Our team still managed to win."

"But I didn't get the Snitch," he sighed.

"Harry!"

His frowned deepened, recognising his father's voice. Harry searched for the Auror and saw him standing near the Gryffindor stands beside his mother, who was clutching onto ten-year-old Leon Potter.

"I'll meet you guys in the Common Room for the celebration," he murmured, breaking away from his best friends to meet with his family. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw his sister walking not too far away, a disappointed look on her face.

"Why the long faces?" James quipped, opening his arms to warmly hug his only daughter. He glanced at Harry and grinned. "Gryffindor won the Quidditch Cup, after all."

"I didn't catch the Snitch," he grumbled once more. He frowned and glanced at his younger sister. "Congratulations."

Stella scowled. "We didn't win, you berk," she said, swatting him on the arm. "I'm the one who's supposed to be saying 'Congratulations'."

"Language," Hermione tutted, prompting Stella to sigh and apologise under her breath.

"You were both brilliant," James reassured. "I haven't had this much excitement watching Quidditch since forever." He beamed and pulled Harry for a hug. "I'm proud of both of you."

Stella's frown melted into a small smile, cheeks flushed from flying and their father's praise. "For the record though," she deliberately said, "I'm still your favourite?"

"Stella, princess, I love you three equally," James promised.

"Liar," Harry and Leon piped at the same time, smiles on their faces.

James sheepishly smiled.

"Will you still watch the games once I start going to Hogwarts?" Leon then asked. "I think I'll try out for the Chaser position."

"Of course I will," James said. "I wouldn't miss them for the world."

* * *

_**1997** _

"Leon, come on. We still have to get Stella."

His younger brother was trying his very best to suppress his tears, but a few stubborn droplets slid down his freckled cheek. "O-okay," he stuttered, turning his head away from Harry to hastily wipe his tears.

Harry sadly smiled and patted his head, urging him to start walking.

The trek towards the Ravenclaw Tower was uncomfortable, mostly because the stuffy black robes he was wearing was itchy at the collar. Harry constantly fidgeted and by the time they'd reached the Ravenclaw Tower, he knew his collarbone was red from his constant scratching.

Stella, who was wearing decent black dress robes like a proper Pureblood witch, was leaning against one of the bannisters, waiting for them to arrive.

"Stella," Harry called.

She whipped her head around upon hearing his voice. "Harry," she whispered, face now crumpling as Stella started to earnestly cry. Leon was unable to suppress his tears any longer and matched her sister's cries.

The eldest Potter sighed and opened his arms, allowing his siblings to cling to him whilst they pressed their wet faces into Harry's robes.

"Alright, alright," he soothed, rubbing comforting circles on their backs. "Come on. Mum's waiting for us."

Both Stella and Leon clung to Harry's hands as they meandered through the deserted corridors of Hogwarts. Thankfully, it was a weekday, and all students were sitting in their classrooms. The Snapes, the Weasleys, Neville, and Draco would attend as soon as the classes were done for today, but the Potters were allowed to leave early to help with the preparation.

His heart was heavy as they passed through various corridors. With the silence—save from his siblings' occasional sniffling—Harry's mind was filled with fond memories he'd shared with his grandmother. He knew it was only a matter of time; Nana was sickly with age, frequently being admitted at St. Mungo's to be tended upon. Her health had worsened after Granddad Fleamont's death. Inevitably, she'd follow him too.

Still, despite how they'd been bracing themselves for this day, no amount of preparation could dispel the grief away. Harry had spent most of his youth in the Potter Manor, surrounded by the abundant love of his grandparents' every time his parents had other matters to attend to. Nana baked the best treacle tart he'd ever tasted. Harry wondered if he'd ever had the chance of eating them again.

Soon, they were standing in front of the Arithmancy Professor's office. Harry took a deep breath and blinked his tears away, then knocked against the door. He waited for his mother's soft 'Come in' before opening the door.

Hermione's eyes were red-rimmed and there were dried tearstains on her cheeks. Her tears were long gone, however, with her blue eyes softening in sadness upon seeing her children.

"Is Dad okay?" Stella quietly asked, haphazardly wiping her tears away.

Their mother merely smiled and ushered them towards the fireplace. She threw a handful of Floo Powder and let Leon and Stella go first.

"Mum…" Harry called as soon as Stella disappeared. "Are you okay?"

She gave him a watery chuckle and fondly brushed his fringe away from his forehead. He was now a foot taller than his mother, almost as tall as James, but he still felt like a well-loved child every time his mother did it. "Truthfully? I'm not," she sighed, not bothering to wipe the tear that slid down from her eye. "But your Dad's worse, Harry. He needs us today, alright?"

"Yeah," he said with a nod.

Hermione then wordlessly pushed him towards the fireplace, the fire roaring emerald green.

**-ooo-**

It was an odd feeling, to be in Potter Manor when the atmosphere was sad and sombre. Harry was so used to the ringing laughter and bursting energy in this house every time he was here. The only time this place had the same ambience was during Fleamont's funeral.

Most of the guests were gathered in the Drawing Room, quiet conversations being exchanged over tea prepared by Pokey. His siblings had blessedly stopped crying as they were too enamoured with Uncle Sirius's stories, who was trying his very best to distract them from their sorrow.

After another quick look around the room, Harry noticed his father was missing. He met his mother's eyes across the room, prompting her to smile.

"He's in the cabin," she simply said, understanding the question in his eyes.

Harry dropped a kiss on the crown of his mother's head and left.

He greeted the portraits of his ancestors, stopping a bit longer when he stood in front of Linfred of Stinchcombe. The wizard in the portrait started quizzing him about his life as a seventh year Hogwarts student. Conversations with the Potter's founding father was always a delight for the Potter heir, but Harry had another agenda in mind and asked to be excused.

Harry stepped out of the back door of the manor and took a few moments to marvel the beautiful garden Euphemia Potter loved and cared for so much. Despite her ailing health, his Nana still had enough energy to tend to her pretty flowers, pouring her love into every dancing petal like they were her own children.

He felt his eyes misting once more, terribly missing his grandmother, propelling him to continue his trek towards the small cabin near the manor.

He spied his father sitting on the grass just in front of the cabin. He was nursing a bottle of butterbeer to his chest, hazel eyes unseeingly gazing heavenward.

"Dad," he called.

James blinked and glanced at him. A small smile appeared on his worn face. "Ah, I've been found," he said, briefly turning his face away to hastily wipe his tears away. Harry offered him a small smile, walking closer to his father and plopping on the small patch of grass beside him.

The respectable Auror wordlessly offered Harry the half-empty butterbeer. Harry accepted and took a swig, before grimacing at the aftertaste.

"Terribly sorry," James said with a sheepish smile. "I needed a little alcohol in my system today."

Harry tried to form the right words to say. How was he to console his father when he himself was heavily grieving the loss? He remembered his father during Fleamont's funeral, but he didn't have enough time to grieve that day as he was too busy holding his mother upright. Now with both of his parents gone…

The young wizard thickly swallowed. He imagined how it would feel if both of his parents had gone—just the mere thought of being unable to see James and Hermione anymore already made him choke up. Harry couldn't, for the life of him, imagine how his father was feeling.

"Merlin, you really are like your mother sometimes," his father sighed.

Harry blinked. "What?"

James took another swig from his alcohol-laced butterbeer and wryly smiled. "I can hear your mind thinking very loudly," he explained. His hazel eyes turned sad as he stared heavenward once more. "It's all right, son. You don't need to say anything. Knowing that you worry about what to say to me is already enough."

He felt his cheeks blooming red. "I'm sorry," he said, because he really couldn't think of any decent words to say.

"What for?" James asked, softly chuckling. "It's inevitable. I know Mum's already in a better place right now. It just puts my heart at peace, knowing she's finally reunited with Dad." He laughed once more, this time not hiding the fact that he was wiping his tears away. "I'm sure Dad's happy my Mum's there to pester him again."

Harry felt his tears forming once more, glancing down at his lap to hide them from his father.

The silence between them stretched far and wide like the fields surrounding the Potter Manor. Harry was content to reminisce about the days when his grandparents would play with him on this vast field, bringing both tears and small smiles on his face.

"Your Mum and I decided we'll be moving here as soon as possible."

Harry's blue eyes widened. "What? Why?" he asked.

"It was one of your Nana's dying wishes," James said, cracking a small, fond smile. "It's a tradition for the Head of the Potter Family to reside in our ancestral home, she said."

"But what about Potter Cottage?" Harry asked. He loved the Potter Manor endlessly, but the Potter Cottage was his home. He couldn't imagine his life away from it.

The older wizard scratched his chin. "Well, it's officially yours," James said with a half-shrug.

" _What_?"

"As my firstborn, it's always been rightfully yours," his father explained. "You'll be graduating soon, Harry. You're an adult now. Soon, you'll pave the way to the future you want, establish a career, build a family…"

Harry snorted. "I'm just seventeen, Dad," he pointed out. "I don't think I'll be having a family any time soon."

"I mean, Stella said there's a _girl_ , so I don't think that future's too farfetched," he pointed out.

"W-what?" Harry sputtered in indignation, cheeks turning splotchy red. "There is _no_ girl."

James quirked an eyebrow and gave him an indulgent smile. "Right," he enunciated. "Your sister also tells me you're a ninny."

The young Gryffindor expelled an exasperated sigh. "Can we go back to the issue of me inheriting the Potter Cottage?" he asked.

"There is no issue here, Harry," his father said. "I don't even know why you're surprised."

"But… but Potter Cottage is _our_ home," he explained.

"It's not as if we'll never visit," James laughed. "It just means we'll be moving out to live here, while you do whatever the hell you want with that house. Your Mum and I have so many memories of that place, and I admit I am a bit sad that we'll be leaving, but we both want to honour your grandmother's request. She'd been with us through everything that has happened over the years and we owe everything to her."

James's face became clouded at his dark past, and Harry was left to wonder once more as to the extent of such horrors his parents had witnessed during the First Wizarding War. He knew they had played a significant role at the height of war; his parents didn't even hide the fact that Voldemort died in his very home, right where his nursery had been. The history books always mentioned his family's name, and his Uncle Peter even had his very own Chocolate Frog card as the hailed hero that had put an end to the Dark Lord's tyranny.

But despite these stories, Harry still wondered just how nightmarish the past had been. He knew his parents kept a colossal secret from him, one he knew they would take to their graves. He remembered weird conversations from his parents and their friends, exchanged anecdotes that never made sense.

Admittedly, he tried to investigate. It was an open secret that his nursery was off-limits to them. The wards his parents had placed were strong enough to drive away three, curious children during their playtime. But as Harry grew older, he became more interested.

He spent one night during his sixth year removing the wards one by one. He didn't know what to expect when he crossed the room. From his parents' warnings, Harry honestly thought this room would house dark secrets that could shake his world. But all he saw in that room was a pensieve, with rows and rows of white, glowing vials lining a small shelf—housing memories, he understood. But before he could further satiate his curious mind, Hermione had caught him.

" _What are you doing here, Harry?"_

He remembered her face, clear as a day, how her face crumpled in deep terror that he'd never seen his mother wear. _"Whose memories are these?"_ he'd asked.

And then, she'd started crying.

Hermione pulled him into a hug and sobbed in his hair. _"Promise me you'll never come into this room again,"_ she said.

He promised just to appease her, and he pushed the thought of the strange room to the deepest part of his brain. It didn't mean he never thought about the room occasionally. His mother's reaction to his discovery had fuelled his curiosity and Harry had tried to sneak in once more on the summer before his seventh year.

The thing was, however, the pensieve and all of the memories were gone.

"Harry, mate, I lost you for a while there," his father called, snapping him out of his reverie.

"Right, sorry," he said, lightly shaking his head to rid himself from those worrying memories. "So, back to moving out of the Potter Cottage. I can't really stop you, can I?"

James shook his head. "We've decided, and you know how mighty stubborn your Mum is," he joked.

"Does Stella and Leon already know?" Harry asked.

"We'll tell them after the guests have left," James reassured. "I think they'll be fine with it, though. They both love Potter Manor."

"Yeah," Harry sighed. A small smile then appeared on his face when he saw his mother standing just outside the back door of the Manor, calling them over. "I think it's time to go back, Dad."

Both father and son climbed onto their feet and journeyed back to the Potter Manor.

"Thanks, Harry," James whispered just before they reached Hermione.

Harry gave him a sideways glance in surprise. "I didn't do anything," he incredulously said.

James's eyes misted, but he looked better now compared to how Harry had found him. "I thought I needed to be alone for a while," he confessed. "Turns out I just need a short heart-to-heart with my eldest to make me feel better."

The younger wizard snorted, a small amused smile on his face. "Glad I could be of help, Dad," he pointed out.

"So… this girl Stella talks about…"

Harry's cheeks reddened like the blooming roses in Euphemia's beloved garden. "There is _no_ girl."

James sighed and placed a hand on Harry's shoulder, halting him in place. "Some word of advice, Harry: if you found someone who you think will make you the happiest in this world, don't let that someone go. Even when things get rough." James's lightly squeezed his shoulder and smiled. " _Especially_ when things get rough."

The young Gryffindor's eyes widened, surprised with his father's words. But his mother had called them over once more, and James had let him go.

"Cold, love?" he heard his mother ask.

Harry watched as his father quirked a small smile. "A bit," he replied.

Hermione reached forward to touch his askew eyeglasses but, to his Harry's surprise, instead of fixing it, she'd removed it from James's face. His father's face crumpled almost immediately, bending down to press his face against Hermione's neck. Her eyes watered, arms wrapping tightly around his father.

No words were exchanged between his parents but Harry knew they weren't needed. He'd always found it odd how they could communicate with each other even without speaking. Perhaps, it was because their bond was forged and strengthened by a war Harry only had read in his history books. Nevertheless, he found it admirable, _overwhelming_ , even, how easily they understood each other.

' _Especially when things get rough,'_ Harry echoed in his mind, his eyes filling with tears when he noticed James's trembling.

"Harry."

His blue eyes met his mother's. "Yeah?"

"Make sure Stella and Leon are okay, yeah?"

Harry blinked his tears away and nodded his head. "Alright."

**-ooo-**

The party thrown by the younger Gryffindors for their graduating seniors in the Common Room was at its peak, but Harry needed to get away.

It wasn't because he wasn't enjoying it, no. But it was Harry's last free day to roam around Hogwarts before graduation, and he wanted to wander around before he left for the real world. After all, Hogwarts was his second home.

He walked through different corridors, smiling silly upon remembering a specific memory he'd had with his best friends. Although they were nowhere as infamous as the Marauders, Harry was proud to say he and his friends were still able to leave a legacy in this school. Filch's exasperated face every time Harry, Ron, Neville, and Draco instigated another prank was enough proof that they'd make the Marauders proud.

Harry visited the different classrooms, the Astronomy Tower, the Quidditch Pitch, Hagrid's Hut, and other places filled with fond memories of his years in Hogwarts, until he finally reached the Black Lake. The lake was serene, save from the ripples made by the lazily swimming Giant Squid. Harry took a moment to marvel at the greenery, wondering if he'd ever see such a beautiful sight once he left Hogwarts.

Sadness bloomed in his heart as he laid down on the grass, tucking his hands behind his head as he contentedly stared at the clear blue sky.

His momentary peace was disrupted when gleaming, emerald eyes and a curtain of raven hair obscured his vision of the sky.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Iris asked with an amused smile on her face.

Harry sighed. "I just needed to get away for a moment," he explained. "What the hell are _you_ doing here?"

"Your bloody friends are setting off fireworks in the Common Room," she pointed out. "I came to find you so that you can put a stop to their idiocy."

The bespectacled boy snorted, watching out of the corner of his eyes as Iris laid down on the grass beside him. "Let the berks have their fun," he said. "Ron's already swamped with paperwork from Fred and George's shop. Neville's terribly nervous for his interview for the Herbology position, and Draco's already losing his mind with all the Malfoy business mumbo jumbo." He closed his eyes and sadly sighed. "Tomorrow, we won't be able to act like a bunch of children anymore."

"Then, why don't you join in the fun?" she asked.

"Like I said, I needed to get away for a moment," he repeated, slightly smiling when he felt her incredulous gaze. "This might take a while, Iris. I think it's best if you just go back to the Common Room."

"It's too rowdy," she complained. "I think I'll stay here for a moment, too."

His smile grew wider, but he still kept his eyes closed.

Neither of them spoke for a few minutes, already content with the comfortable silence between them. Harry was actually almost lulled into sleep, but Iris suddenly asked him a question.

"What do you plan to do now once you graduate?"

Harry gathered his thoughts, cracking one eye open to glance at the curious witch. "Why do you ask?" he asked.

She lightly shrugged. "Just curious," she simply said.

"Good to know you're curious about my future, Iris," he teased, prompting the younger Gryffindor to snort. "Are you worried you won't have a place in it anymore?"

Her cheeks reddened. "You wish, Potter," she grumbled, lightly swatting his arm whilst he burst into soft chuckles.

"Alright, alright, _Merlin_ , no need to get flustered," he laughed, his grin broadening. "If you must know, I plan on applying to the DMLE as an Auror in a few weeks."

Her eyes widened in surprised. "What? I thought you said you wanted to become a Professional Quidditch Star, or maybe a Dragon Tamer," she pointed out. "I mean, back in your sixth year, you were dead set on joining Puddlemere United as their reserve Seeker."

Harry shrugged. "I don't know," he sighed. "I think I needed to do something more worthwhile. Like… like chasing evil wizards all over the world, like Dad."

"Aunt Hermione won't like it, I'm sure," she said.

"Oh, I know she won't," he laughed. "But Mum loves me endlessly and will support whatever decisions I make in my life."

"Why become an Auror?" Iris asked. "You never once mentioned you wanted to become one."

Harry shifted his gaze back at the blue sky. "I don't know," he claimed once more. "There's this part of me that has always felt like I'm supposed to do something… _big_."

"And becoming an Auror will help you achieve that?"

"Godric, Iris, you're really full of questions today, aren't you?" he teased. When she shot him a withering glare, Harry sighed and continued. "I really can't explain it properly, Iris. Don't get me wrong; I love Quidditch and becoming a Professional Seeker is still bloody tempting for me. But whenever I think of the times when my father returns after a successful Auror mission, I always remember how he looked like he was doing something worthwhile. And I thought, I wanted that for myself too. There's this niggling voice in the back of my mind that urges me - I'm better off chasing the bad guys and bringing at least some peace to a few people every single day."

" _Well_ ," Iris murmured, "I for one think you'll be a brilliant Auror."

He felt his ego swell at her words. "Yeah?" he cheekily asked.

She snorted. "And now I've awakened that stupid confidence of yours," she sighed. "But fine, yeah. I think you'll be a brilliant Auror, Harry Potter. The world will be a much better place if you become one."

"Thank you," he genuinely said. "It's rare for you to say kind words to me."

Iris laughed. "Only if you deserve them, you berk," she pointed out.

"Merlin, how the hell will I survive out there in the real world without you, Iris Snape?" He felt his heart thudding inside his ribcage when she blushed prettily.

"Don't be ridiculous," she said with a wobbly smile. "You can't get rid of me that easily, Harry. I only have two more years in Hogwarts before I can pester you endlessly without thinking about my studies. You just wait."

' _Waiting,'_ he echoed, closing his eyes once more. _'That I can do.'_

They were silent for a few moments once more, Harry's mind mostly filled with the fond memories he'd had in this school and with the fifth year lying beside him.

"Harry?"

"Hmm?" he hummed.

"Are you happy?"

His eyes flew open in surprise. "Why do you ask?" he asked, turning his face to look at the witch.

Iris shrugged, a sad smile spreading on her face. "Seven years flew by in the blink of an eye," she said.

Harry turned his face once more, eyes staring intently at the drifting clouds in the blue sky.

He contemplated his seven years in Hogwarts. Compared to the wondrous stories he'd heard from his parents and their friends, Harry could wholeheartedly conclude that things had been pretty… _normal_. Sure, he'd had little adventures with his best friends, and there were memorable moments that would forever be etched in his heart. Still, there were times when he sometimes wondered what it would have been like if things were different somehow, someway.

Despite the normalcy of it all, however, his mind was filled with memories he knew he would cherish until the end of time.

And so, was he really, _truly_ happy?

A blinding smile stretched far and wide on his face.

"Very."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I was a bit emotional when I wrote this chapter. Haha anyway, I hope you enjoyed them. Until next time! Hopefully, I can write a few more WIPs before the end of 2020.
> 
> P.S. Follow me on tumblr (kimmy-writes)!
> 
> P.P.S. I just recently finished watching 'Dark' on Netflix and I'm a mess. I need someone to process it with. I was crying the whole time I was washing the dishes just so you know ahahaha. I'm currently reading a fanfic about my OTP and still shamelessly crying help hahaha

**Author's Note:**

> I'm very curious about Healers in the HP universe (ahaha as a medical intern) so I might delve deeper into this specific job in my future writing. There are so many areas to explore but I'd like to think that like doctors, Healers are mighty obsessed in making sure their operating place is very, very sterile too hahaha. I think I have yet to read a fanfic that discusses the intricacies of this job so yep, really considering exploring this job further. 
> 
> Well, that's it! I'd love to hear some of your ideas! Do you wish to see a scene from the original HotS or post-HotS? Or maybe a great 'what if' kept niggling at the back of your mind? Send me a prompt in your reviews or over tumblr. Your ideas might inspire my muse hahaha.
> 
> P.S. Follow me on tumblr (kimmy-writes)
> 
> P.P.S. I have an unfinished, very sad Jamione one-shot stored in my laptop for months. I actually thought of this one-shot first before I started writing HotS. I'm half-way done so I might post it soon too.
> 
> P.P.P.S. So. I also have some Regulus/Hermione ideas. I freaking hate myself for all these plot bunnies when I'm not supposed to get distracted ahahaha.


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